The Day They Died
by makes one heavenly
Summary: Because in the end even imaginary characters die imaginary deaths and we cry real tears. HP character deaths.
1. Dumbledore

**A/N:** Well it has been a long while people! I am very sorry for not posting for I don't even know how long. Kind of went off for a bit and now I'm back! Whknows was for how long this time. So I wrote a thingy and I hope you enjoy.

**Note: **This will ultimatel turn into a series of one shots I don't know how lowil that will take and how many chapters but keep your eyes open.

**Summary: **The Day They Died. Character deaths from HP. Because in the end even imaginary characters die imaginary deaths and we cry real tears.

* * *

The day Albus Dumbledore died many people fell.

Because he was Albus freaking Dumbledore, the leader, the hero the stuff of legend, who's name will be never be forgotten but who will never be remembered, well not really. So idolised, so worshipped by so many that he edged on divine.

But Albus Dumbledore would never admit to being even close to godliness, he counted his flaws on his fingers and toes ever since he was a little boy, but never told a soul about how scared he had been about the world. And so the world saw him as the mask he has created.

_Because no one ever bothered to look beyond the first layer.._

What people often seemed to forget was that he was human (kind of) too, and sometimes, for just a moment or two, Albus seemed to forget that too. But he wasn't invincible because the one thing that humans seem to do best, is die.

The people saw their great leader (literally) fall from grace (or from a building) and with his fall they would fall themselves, and see the downfall of their children reflected in those empty glassy eyes. So many tears would fall from so many downcast faces, from so many people who actually didn't even know the man at all but knew enough to know it was all over.

_If only people could hope as much as they hated, and have faith as much as they cried.._

But he was their messiah. He was supposed to save them, but he didn't. So then they realised that he couldn't be a god, because everyone knows that gravity doesn't work on gods and in that moment all hope stripped away and left them all naked, shivering, vulnerable. Albus Dumbledore had taken an imperfect world and made them think that everything was fine.

But it wasn't fine anymore.

_Was it ever? Really? If you answered yes then you are right._

And when they saw his cold pale body the people fell to their knees and fell to the ground and just fell. Tears fell from eyes, and things fell from hands, and hearts just plummeted in chests when the news was heard. And people felt lost.

The one thing that didn't fall was the war.

And it was the one thing that they thought should have.

_But come on people, when is life ever fair? Did Albus tell you it was? Because he was a lying liar and I'm sorry for ruining it.._

So they were left all alone, the soldiers without a leader, without instruction, without orders, just fighters fighting for good. But now they didn't know what good was. And in the end they did fall... And fell hard..

_Because the thing about falling is that it's so close to flying you some times can't tell the difference until its too late... Whoops!_

The night of the fall was a night that no one would ever forget. Many fell crying, some fell laughing and others fell to never rise again. And others... others fell so much that they started to fly and they never really stopped, so they were trapped, somewhere between living and dying, between the sky and the ground, between falling and landing and one of these was Harry Potter, who ended up more alone then anyone after Dumbledore's time.

So if you were to ask Albus he would tell you that he didn't fall.. He soared... He just happened to soar rather rapidly towards the ground for some unknown reason. But then again he never seemed to need any reason to do anything and Dumbledore was one of those people who's reality blurred between a nightmare and a reality too awful to face.

But we know that Albus Dumbledore is a deluded old genius who had lost the plot as soon as he had gotten it and had too much faith put into him by too many people.

And in the end, he didn't fly, he fell.

Just  
F

E

L

L

(Dead)

At least there was a pretty decent turn out to his funeral...

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**A/N:** Next chapter will hopefully be out relatively soon!


	2. Arthur

**A/N**: Well basically this chapter was just sitting there, nearly done so I just thought might as well finish it off and post it because I am very bored at the moment and in a writing mood.

**Summary:** So many stories unfinished and Arthur Weasley was one of them..

* * *

The day Arthur Weasley died many people cried.

Much more then expected if its not rude to say. Sure Arthur had been a good man, but not great, never great..

It had been a long time coming. Arthur had planned everything out to the last detail, well he had been given plenty of time to do so. He couldn't have wished for a better going away present...

He sat to one side of his huge lonely bed, with window thrown open on the one day it hadn't rained that month, the warm morning sunlight mingling with the song of birds.

Arthur couldn't hear them anymore and that made Ron so angry.

_(Molly)_

He couldn't even remember what day the last one was, even though Bill had reminded him at least thirteen times.

_(Molly)_

He had been wearing the same clothes for the last few days but no one said anything about the slight smell. The bed spreads were wrinkled and worn, but Fleur resisted the urge to straighten them out. There was a small smudge of sauce at the corner of his mouth which Ginny refused to acknowledge and scrunched up the napkin very tightly in her hand.

His chin had become prickly with a small amount of stubble, but he didn't bother to shave anymore, he hadn't done much planning ahead lately.

_(Molly)_

And when he had finally been submerged in the peaceful sleep of death Ginny looked at his un-moving, blank, dead face and wished there had been more time to say the things that should have been said.

Percy just wished he could have said sorry one last time.

Charlie thought himself selfish when he had wished that his father would say hat he was proud of him in his final moments. But upon reflection he realised it wasn't selfish, just sad that he had never headed those words before.

Bill collected all the muggle devices around the Burrow for weeks afterwards. He put them in a box, put that box in the old shed and no one ever looked at them again.

Ron just cried...

And George just didn't...

_(Molly)_

He hated the way his voice croaked and the way his lips were cracked and he barely had enough strength to keep his eyes open. Nothing was right, but it was still perfect for him.

And when Arthur's last breath was used chuckling politely at some awful joke of Charlie's, everyone cried harder then they thought they would. It was the end of and era and the end of a generation and the beginning of a much sadder time. But no one made a scene and everyone shared in everyone else's grief because they all understood what no one was saying.

This was his moment, and nobody would dream of taking it away from him.

_(Molly)_

He had laughed so much, but in those last few days he did nothing but cry and remember all the terrors of the world and Percy never told anyone.

_(Molly)_

His wedding ring, which had fit snugly for years now rolled freely up and down his finger. The wrong finger.  
Arthur did a lot of forgetting these days.  
George couldn't bear to be called Fred one more time..

And hidden under those covers he was wearing mismatched socks, the blue one and the grey one which had always looked the same in the dark.

He wore his favourite glasses with the cracked lenses, though his vision was reaching beyond help, they had so much history. Like a story you didn't need words to tell.

Bill remembered those glasses the best.  
_(Molly)_  
Charlie remembered the sparse hairs clinging to his naked scalp.  
_(Molly) _  
Percy remembered the flash of fear in his eyes.  
_(Molly) _  
George remembered that Fred wouldn't remember this.  
_(Molly) _  
Ron remembered the way his hands shook.  
_(Molly) _  
Ginny remembered that damn sauce smudge.

And Molly wasn't there to remember and that's what Arthur regretted the most.

Charlie fixed up the motor bike and no one ever touched it again.

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**A/N: **Next chapter will hopefully be out soon-ish but it hasn't been started so we will see how that goes. Hope you enjoyed!


	3. Harry

**A/N:** Just avoiding homework and pretending that it will do itself. So another chapter has been made! I still have no idea how many chapters this story is going to end up with and I think it's to early to put a number on it so I'm just going to keep writing and stop when it's over.

**Summary:** Well even though no-one likes to think about it Harry Potter did die, though not in the way he was expected to. Harry was our hero and I think that he deserves more appreciation then he has been given.

* * *

When Harry Potter died people mourned.

And mourned like crazy..

I mean what else would you have expected to happen? So many grieved to the point of near insanity for their hero. He was the bloody Boy-Who-Lived and many people doubted his mortality, his human-ness, they thought that he would live forever. But forever means different things to different people.

And Harry's forever was Ginny.

* * *

They all thought he would die with a bang, in a battle, during some daring escape or a crazy plan to save someone. He was supposed to die a hero's death with adrenaline pumping and and innocence still in his eyes. He was supposed to die for all of them on that May 2nd 1998.

But he didn't. And Harry never figured out if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

The death of Harry Potter happened many many years later. You see on his home there was a leaky bit of roof and under that leaky bit of roof there was a staircase and on that staircase a very important stair and on that very important stair a very important puddle of water that an old and weary Harry happened to slip in.

And so The-Boy-Who-Lived, The-Chosen-One tripped down a flight of stairs and never got back up again and the people said it was all too similar to Albus Dumbledore.

* * *

His funeral was everything he would have expected it to be. But nothing like he would have wanted.

* * *

Afterwards when Lily spoke of her fathers death she would always immediately tell everyone that her fathers body and been first found by the cat, because she thought it funny. No-one ever questioned her reply, they all knew she was going through hell and this was her way.

It was James who got to keep his fathers wand. One look at his mothers face when she saw it and he knew that it was his job to take care of it. But one day the dog got to it, so he taped it up nice and tight and never knew why Uncle Ron smiled that bitter smile every time he saw it.

Albus cried every night for four days and forgot to fold his clothes. He would wear the same shirt two days in a row and chopped his hair real short. Albus was lost, for a little while..

* * *

His life had been beautiful and terrible, so happy and sad, full of so many wins and many many more losses. Harry had done so much for so many people but there was a lot he wished he could change. He wished it had been easier, he wished he hadn't been so angry all the time, he wished that the people who were dead hadn't stayed dead.

The one thing he didn't regret was finding that troll on the girls bathroom

* * *

It was his last moment that Harry appreciated the most.

He was twisted and broken at the bottom of a twisted and broken staircase he could feel a fractured hip some broken ribs and maybe what he thought was a cerebral edema (incorrect diagnosis Mr Potter, this is why you were never a healer.)

But in the corner of his eye he saw his last sunset and there never could be a more perfect ending to the tragedy of his life.

But he was scared.

On his last breath he was transported back to the cupboard under the stairs. And again he was that little boy peering at the slivers of light creeping through the grate and clinging to the last hazy glow as a refuge from the swallowing darkness..

He was going towards the light

Ginny sent his Firebolt to Oliver Wood's family.

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**A/N:** Please tell me if you enjoyed or didn't enjoy this story! Updates will happen when they happen :)


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